Ten Little Criminals
by Narko-Darko
Summary: The events of one day are seen through the eyes of ten different criminals, whose lives intertwine with each others.
1. Carl's Day

Ten Little Criminals  
  
Carl's Day  
  
----------  
  
He sat down at the booth in the back, cigar in his mouth. He grabbed two napkins out of the holder at the edge of the table, and placed them side by side perfectly in the center of the table. Carl took a sip of the coffee in his hand, and stood up from the stool. He casually walked towards the booth, holding the coffee cup up to his chest to keep it from spilling. As he sat down in the booth, the other man pulled a menu out from behind the ketchup.  
  
"You must be the guy Big Doug sent." The man stated, looking down the menu.  
  
"And you must be Kilroy. Doug said you'd put the napkins on the table, says it's your signal." Carl replied, leaning back against the booth seat.  
  
The waitress walked up, pulling a pen out of the pocket in her apron. She began tapping the pen on the edge of the pad in her hand, waiting for the orders. Kilroy closed his menu, and dropped it down on the table.  
  
"I'll get a slice of apple pie, and a cup of coffee." Kilroy ordered, his eyes hiding behind a pair of dark sunglasses.  
  
The two men sat quietly in the booth for a few seconds as the waitress finished filling out the pad. As she walked away, Kilroy reached into his long coat and pulled out a manilla package. His eyes quickly glanced around the room, and his hands dropped underneat the table. Carl reached under, and grabbed the package, slowly pulling it back to him.  
  
"Inside you'll find the necessary documents. Do not open it here. You're working for me now, not Big Doug, so you'll have a few new rules to follow. One, do not try to contact me, I will contact you when needed. Two, you will speak to no one about the job, even me. If anyone asks you about it, you will act as if there's no such thing. Three, do not trust anyone. I will be sending no one to help you on this mission, so if anyone claiming to be working for me comes to speak to you, you will avoid them. Understood?" Kilroy explained, his voice barely a whisper.  
  
"I got it." Carl calmly replied.  
  
"I've reserved a hotel room across the street for you under the name 'Harris Gall'. When in your room, feel free to open the package. You'll have 24 hours to do the job, and then you will come back here at exactly 3:30 tomorrow afternoon. If you're a minute late, you will not be paid. If you happen to fail the mission, or you do not complete it within 24 hours, you will burn the contents of the package, and we will never see each other again. Is this understood?"Kilroy continued to explain.  
  
"Yeah, I understand." Carl spoke back, his hands underneath the table slipping the package in his coat.  
  
"Good. Consider your mission to officialy start now."Kilroy finished, sliding his glasses back on his face.  
  
Carl took a finishing sip of his coffee, and stood up from the booth. He gave a slight nod of the head to Kilroy, and walked up to the front counter. The waitress punched in the price of his coffee, and asked for the money. He slipped a five across the counter, and give the waitress a wink. He walked towards the door, and looked back into the corner booth. Kilroy was gone, a plate of steaming apple pie sitting on the tabletop.  
  
-------------------------  
  
Across the street, Carl pushed open the doors for The Vice City Victorian, one of the greatest hotels in the city. As he walked into the lobby, the smell of money hit his face hard. The room was full of rich, all of them sitting around talking with each other, their huge wallets in their pockets rich with the scent of currency. Carl pushed his way through the crowd, being as rude as he possibly could to the snobbish tycoons. He flashed a quick smile as he reached the counter, a clerk on the other side replied with an uncomfortable nod of the head.  
  
"Hi there. I'm here to pick up a key for the room I reserved, the name's Harris Gall." Carl calmly lied.  
  
"Uh...I'm sorry Mr...Gall, but I just gave the key to your room to another fellow claiming to be Harris Gall a few minutes ago."  
  
"What?!" Carl's calmness disappeared as he shouted at the clerk.  
  
"I'm sorry sir. I'll call the manager right away." The clerk shyly spoke, reaching for the phone.  
  
"You know what, that's quite alright. I think I'll just go up to the room myself. Who knows? It might just be a harmless mixup."Carl replied, trying to hide the anger in his voice. "Would you mind telling me which room it is?"  
  
"Room 74 Mr. Gall, 8th floor. You can take the elevator if you'd like, it's just over there past the dining room."The clerk reached over the counter and pointed to the elevator. "Please accept my sincere apologies about the key mixup before, the man claimed to be Harris Gall, I should've checked for I.D."  
  
"It's no problem, really. In fact, if you want to repay me, you could do something right now. Would you mind having a taxi waiting for me when I leave in about fifteen minutes?" Carl asked, beginning to slowly walk away.  
  
"Absolutely sir, it's the least the hotel could do." The clerk quickly replied, picking up the phone to call a taxi.  
  
Carl pushed the button for the 8th floor as he reached the elevator. A loup beep sounded from the doors, and they slid open. He walked inside, and the doors once again slid shut behind him. The elevator was empty, exactly what he needed. He casually reached into his jacket, and pulled out a small handgun from within. Whoever was in his room was not Harris Gall, and they probably weren't looking for a minibar. The doors slid open once more, and Carl carefully walked out, concealing his gun in the palm of his hand. Room 74 was across from the elevator, only a few metres away. Carl slowly began to walk towards it, cautious of what was waiting on the other side. He propped against the door, and grabbed the doorknob. He spun it once, it clicked and the door opened. He slowly backed into the door, as quietly as possible. The room was dark, the only light coming from a neon sign outside the window.   
  
"Who the fuck is in here?" Carl yelled into the dark room, his gun drawn ahead of him.  
  
There was a small rusling sound from the back of the room. Without thinking, Carl fired three shots in the general direction. There was a loud shriek, followed by the sound of glass shattering. Carl took a few steps into the room, looking for any signs of movement. He raised his gun into the air and fired. There was another shriek, and the lights were suddenly turned on. A young girl was lying on the ground near the bed, shivering in fear. The window behind her now shards of glass stuck in the carpet of the floor.   
  
"Who are you?" Carl asked her, picking her up by the wrist.  
  
The girl began to sob, shivering in fear. "P-Please don't hurt me."  
  
Carl sighed, and lowered his gun. "Well, I won't hurt you if you tell me who let you in here? Where's the guy claiming to be Harris Gall?"   
  
"I-In the bathroom..."She pointed to the door, still crying.  
  
Carl turned his head, he could see the closed bathroom door, a light emitting from under the door frame. He raised his gun once again, and turned towards the door. As he inched towards it, the girl behind him stopped sobbing. He pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear any signs of life. Behind him, the girl started grinning. Carl lowered his hand and grasped the doorhandle, slowly turning it. Behind him, the girl raised the lamp over her head, and dropped it on his head.  
  
--------------------------  
  
His eyes flicked open. It was black. Nothing but shadows surrounded him. His head was throbbing, and it felt like he hadn't had a drink of water in months. His hands were tied behind his head, his feet were handcuffed together, the tight metal of his cuffs cutting off any circulation. He tried to speak, but a dry cloth was jammed down his throat, preventing anything but slight groans to emit from his mouth.   
  
"Don't try to move Mr.Gall, you'll just stop the blood flow more." A voice spoke from the shadows.  
  
Carl began to squirm, just trying to make sure he was still alive. He let out a loud groan, trying to scream for help.  
  
"Relax Mr.Gall, the situation is not as dire as it seems. If you cooperate, you will be make in your mansion by the end of the day."The man cleared his throat, and began to circle around Carl. "Now, I'm going to remove the cloth jammed in your throat. Do not scream, do not talk, do not make any noise or I will shoot you. You will answer when I ask a question, and that is it."  
  
Something grabbed hold of the end of the cloth and ripped it out of Carl's throat. Carl bit his upper lip to stop from screaming, tears of fear beginning to drip down the side of his face. He couldn't remember the last time he was scared.  
  
"Now, Mr. Gall, I suppose you already now the reason I brought you here." The man spoke quickly, Carl could detect a slight british accent.  
  
"Execuse me for butting in, but I'm not Harris Gall. That's just a fake name I'm using while I'm at the hotel." Carl panted, his throat begging for a liquid.  
  
"Don't play fucking dumb with me Mr.Gall, I know who you fucking are. I was told someone with your exact description was going to check into that exact room. Unless my source was wrong, which they never are, you are Harris Gall." The man screamed back, his british accent more apparent.  
  
Carl began to fidget, trying to get his hand into his pocket. "Look at my ID, it'll say I'm Carl Brannings. Please, just look!"  
  
The room went quiet for a few seconds. Carl could hear the man standing there, tapping his shoe on the floor. There was a brief pause of total silence, and then the lights in the room turned on. Carl got a glimpse of the man in front of him. He was a tall man in a completely dark suit. He had slicked back black hair, and a beard that made him look like Hans Gruber. The man grabbed Carl by the neck, and hoisted him up with incredible strength. Within seconds, he was searching through Carl's pockets, looking for his wallet. Instead, he pulled out the manilla package.  
  
"Hello, what do we have here?"The man spoke as he held the package into the light.  
  
The man reached into his suit jacket, and pulled out a small switchblade. He jammed it into the thin paper of the package, and ripped a hole in the side of it. His hand reached in, and pulled out a thin piece of paper. The man held it up to his face, staring at it with a blank stare.   
  
"What the fuck is this?"The man began to shout, throwing the paper to the ground. "Is this a fucking joke?"  
  
Carl couldn't respond, he hadn't seen what the paper had shown. It lay on the floor in front of him, upside down.  
  
"I-I don't know what was on it, I just recieved from a source a few minutes before you kidnapped me."Carl cried back to the man, struggling to get free.  
  
The man sighed angirly, and began to nervously pace around the room. He quietely mumbled to himself, a look of worry spread across his face.  
  
"Your source, who is he?"The man demanded, turning his attention to Carl.  
  
"I-I can't say. He'll kill me."Carl responded, finally deciding to stop struggling.  
  
"He'll kill you? I'll fucking kill you! Tell me who he is!"The man screamed, reaching into his coat.  
  
The man brandished a gun, holding it up into the light. He clicked the safety back, and lowered the gun to Carl's head. "Tell me who the source is, and I won't paint the walls with your fucking brain."  
  
Carl thought for a second. He didn't have much of a choice. He had to tell him. "His name's Kilroy. I'm not really sure who he is, but he gave me a job. I was to kill the man who's mentioned inside the package. That's all I know, honest." Carl squealed, closing his eyes to avoid the gun.  
  
Carl couldn't see, but he could hear the man laugh. At first it was just a slight chuckle, but soon it erupted into hysterics. The man howled with laughter, but still managing to keep the gun close to Carl's head.   
  
"You know what's funny? You were sent to kill someone, and you end up getting killed yourself. That, I find, is the height of irony." The man chuckled, finally ending his laugh.  
  
He jammed the gun against Carl's head, Carl screamed for mercy. The man pulled the trigger, and the bullet erupted out of the gun. It flew through Carl's skull, and managed to exit the other side, flying into the wall. Carl's lifeless body fell to the ground, as blood poured out of the wound in his head. 


	2. Carrie's Day

Carrie's Story  
  
--------------  
  
She lowered the gun. The man across from her stood silently, his eyes a blank glare. He tried to take a step forward, but his knees gave out and he collapsed to the ground in a heaving bloody heap. He reached for his gun which lay on the floor in front of him, but his arm dropped in front of him, lifeless. Marcus stepped out of the shadows, a look of acceptance on his face.  
  
"Good. Now I can trust you. We can get down to business." Marcus sat down at the table in the corner of the room.  
  
Carrie looked secure on the outside, but inside she was breaking apart. Her stomach a tight knot from what she had done, her heart pumping too blood to the head, and her nerves beginning to spark and ignite. She tried to move, but she just stood there with a fake look of confidence on her face.   
  
"It's a simple kidnapping job. My informant, who just happens to be the guy you just shot, told me that a man by the name of Harris Gall was checking into the hotel across town. Your job is to get up there, get this guy, and bring him back here. Couldn't be any more simple." Marcus explained, lighting up a cigar.  
  
"Am I going alone?" She asked, still shaking inside.  
  
Marcus put the cigar down. "No, you're going to be going with one of my men. His name is Tobey, he's new at this. I want you to take him along, show him the ropes. Stuff like that. Just make sure he stays out of my hair." Marcus laughed at his last comment.  
  
"And where is he?" She asked hastily.  
  
"He's waiting for you outside, red car. He'll know who you are, and where you're going. Let him drive." Marcus spoke back with the cigar in his mouth.  
  
She nodded and began to walk towards the door. Marcus's voice bellowed behind her. "If you manage to fucking fail this thing, I'll have your head on a platter. Just something to think about."  
  
-----------------  
  
"Ok, here are the ground rules. I'm your boss, you listen to me. You do what I tell you. If I tell you to jump out a window, you jump out that fucking window." Carrie explained to Tobey.  
  
"Would if the window is on the 129th floor?" Tobey quickly replied, not being sarcastic.  
  
"I was being hypothetical, I'm not making you jump out a window."Carried replied, shocked at Tobey's idiocy.  
  
"Okay. I have a question. Do I have to shoot anyone?" Tobey questioned, his brow furrowed.  
  
"I don't know. Let's just go and do this thing."Carrie replied angirly, reaching for the car door.  
  
"Should I take my gun? Or maybe I should just take a knife. A sharp knife. Or I could just tape a knife to the gun. You know, like a bayonet. That's be pretty awsome."Tobey was enthusastic at the end, thrilled about talking about bayonets.  
  
Carrie sighed."Just go inside the hotel."  
  
Tobey and Carrie walked out into the street, the sun beat down on them. Tobey put on a pair of sunglasses, making him look more ridiculous than before. Carrie held her head down and sighed, Tobey looked shocked. He thought they looked good. They both pushed the doors open for the hotel, and walked into the lobby. It was pretty busy, looked like a lot of rich bastards to Carrie. She motioned for Tobey to go over to the desk, and she waltzed over to the elevator.  
  
Tobey walked over to the counter, and casually leaned against the side of it, trying to act cool. Carrie tried not to laugh, Tobey was about as suave as a rock. She couldn't tell what he was saying, but it seemed to be working because the clerk looked sympathetic. A few seconds later, the clerk disappeared underneath the desk, and rose once again, key in hand. Tobey looked towards Carrie and grinned, holding up the key. She nodded, although she had already seen it.   
  
Tobey walked up to her. "Did you see that? My charm got that key. I was so fucking cool, I had suavness dripping out of the poors in my head."   
  
"Uhhh...yeah. Let's just get up to the room."Carrie dryly replied, pushing the button on the elevator.  
  
The elevator doors slid open, and the two criminals walked inside. "So...pretty good weather today, huh?" Tobey commented as the elevator began to move.  
  
"Shut up." She replied quickly.  
  
The doors opened again, and the two walked into the hallway. Tobey walked over to the door, and stuck the key in the lock. Carrie casually checked the hallway for anyone watching, and then walked into the newly opened room. Tobey reached for the lock on the door, but Carrie held his arm back. "Leave the door open. We'll let him come in."  
  
Tobey nodded and threw the key onto the dresser next to the door. He quietly chuckled, and then ran across the room and lept onto the bed. "Oh man, this matress is soft. What do you think's in here? Maybe they stuff it with feathers. I heard that works well."  
  
Carrie shook her head in disbelief. "We're about to kidnap a guy, and you're trying to figure out what's in the matress?"  
  
"What? My bed at home is really hurting my back. Maybe you'll get to see it, if you know what I mean." Tobey replied, arching his eyebrows up and down.  
  
"If I ever wake up in your bed, I'll fucking kill myself." She quickly spoke back, not joking.  
  
There was a bumb against the wall outside. Someone had propped up against it. Carrie and Tobey looked towards each other, and Carrie motioned towards the bathroom. "Hide in there, close the door. When he goes in there, I'll get him."  
  
Tobey entred the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Carrie turned off the lights and dropped to the floor on her knees. She pinched herself hard in the arm, trying to get some tears to come out of her eyes. She had to play the part. The door to the room clicked open, and someone walked in.   
  
"Who the fuck is in here?" The man screamed into the room.  
  
Carrie moved a little, creating a noise. The man shot three times towards her, hitting the window behind her with all the bullets. The man began to look around the room, looking for someone. He saw Carrie lying on the ground, and aimed his gun at her.   
  
"Who are you?" The man asked, picking up Carrie by the wrist.  
  
Carrie let out a fake sob. "P-Please don't hurt me!"  
  
The man sighed and lowered his gun. "Well, I won't hurt you if you tell me who let you in here. Where's the guy claiming to be Harris Gall?"   
  
Carrie could feel the fake tears running down her face. "I-In the bathroom."  
  
The man turned his head, looking towards the bathroom. He slowly edged towards it, his gun resting in his two hands. He began to turn the knob. Carrie stopped the sobbing, and grinned. She had him right where she wanted him. She grabbed the lamp sitting on the small desk beside her, and walked behind the man. She raised it over her head, and dropped it on the top of his skull. He let out a grunt, and fell quickly to the ground.   
  
Carrie smiled, and dropped the lamp to the ground. She reached out, and turned the doorknob. The door slightly opened, and a loud bang went off. She fell backwards, a burning sensation in her stomach. She looked up to see a gun pointing out of the bathroom, the barrell smoking. She whimpered, and fell backwards onto the bed. "Wow, this is a soft matress" was her last thought. 


	3. Tobey's Day

Tobey's Day  
  
-----------  
  
Marcus threw him a photograph. "Her name's Carrie, my top gal. She'll be taking you on this mission, showing you the basics."  
  
Tobey threw the photo back on the desk. "I don't need any help from a dame. I can do this on my own."  
  
"Tobey, if you weren't my cousin, I swear I'd have killed you by now. You're not ready to go out and do this on your own, you're still fucking green," Marcus shouted back.  
  
The sound of the garage door opening from the outside stopped the conversation. Marcus pointed to the door. "Wait outside, I want to talk to her in private first."  
  
Tobey turned towards the door. Marcus's voice grumbled, and he shouted. "And Tobey, if you manage to fuck this up, I'll make sure you fucking pay."  
  
----------------------------  
  
He leaned against the bathroom sink, shivering nervously. He had heard the three shots go off, and he could hear Carrie crying. She could've been hit. There was quiet talking on the other side of the door, he couldn't hear what they were saying. He held the gun with a tight grip, aiming it towards the door, ready to shoot the man coming in to kill him. Then, there was a smash. He hit Carrie with something! He panicked, the door began to creak open. He jammed the barrel of the gun into the crack of the door, pulling the trigger. There was a whimper, and the body fell backwards. He sighed relief.  
  
"Looks like we got the bastard, Carrie," Tobey grinned as he opened the bathroom door.   
  
He fell backwards against the wall. Carrie's body was motionless on the bed, a bullethole in her chest. He jumped atop of the bed, checking her pulse.   
  
He screamed at her. "Carrie! Carrie! Wake the fuck up!"  
  
Two women looked in the room through the hallway. Tobey swung his head around, and they scattered away. He leaped off the bed, his gun drawn, and skidded into the hallway. Both the girls headed for the elevator, screaming their heads off.   
  
"YOU FUCKING TELL ANYONE, AND I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" Tobey screamed at them, knowing the threat wouldn't work.   
  
He ran back into the hotel room, over to the body of Carl. He grabbed him by the chest and hoisted him over his shoulder, carrying him around like a rolled up carpet. He looked out the window, police cars beginning to pull up out front.   
  
A voice echoed from the hallway. "Sir, is something wrong?"  
  
Tobey spun around, his gun already drawn, and shot the bellhop in the head. The bellhop took a few steps forward, and collapsed onto the already bloody rug of the room. Tobey dropped Carl's body onto the bed, and quickly entered the bathroom with the body of the bellhop. A few seconds later he came back out, wearing the new bellhop suit.  
  
He stepped into the hallway, the bellhop's luggage rack sitting next to the door. He wheeled it in the room, pulling one of the suitcase's off. Setting it on the bed, he jammed Carl's body inside, the suitcase almost bulging open when he closed it. He rolled it onto the luggage rack, and wheeled it into the hallway.  
  
He began to walk towards the elevator, the rack heavy and hard to handle. A loud ding erupted in the hallway, and the elevator doors slid open. Three police officers charged in the hallway, their guns raised.  
  
"HOLD IT! WHERE ARE YOU GOING!" One of the cops screamed at Tobey, his gun waving in the air.  
  
Tobey backed against the wall. "I've got to deliver Ms. Blanard's suitcase, she's waiting in the lobby."  
  
One of the officers nodded, and they continued down the hall. As the elevator doors closed, Tobey could hear them shouting for medical assistance from the room.   
  
--------------------------  
  
Tobey wheeled the suitcase into the room. Marcus's eyes widened with anticipation as he sat up from his desk.  
  
"Excellent work Tobey. Excellent work," Marcus gleefully exclaimed, walking around his desk.  
  
Tobey zipped open the suitcase, the body of Carl fell out onto the floor. "Just like you wanted him," he replied to Marcus.  
  
Marcus reached out and grapped Tobey's hand, giving him a rough handshake. He smiled once again, "Where's Carrie, I need to speak with her. We've got a wedding to plan."  
  
Tobey cleared his throat. "There was a litte...problem in the mission."  
  
The smile disappeared from Marcus's face. "Problem? What fucking problem?"  
  
Tobey took a step backwards. "I shot her...accidently! She opened the door to the bathroom, and I...I shot her..."  
  
Marcus stood silent for a few seconds, his face emotionless. Finally, he let out a sigh. "Your father, was my brother. When he was dying, I promised him that I'd make sure you were brought up right. How am I supposed to keep that promise when you making fucking screw ups like this."  
  
Tobey jumped in. "It was an accident!"  
  
Marcus shook his head. "An accident? A fucking accident!? Carrie was marrying my son! The wedding was in six weeks! What am I going to say to my son now. Sorry kid, but your wife was shot by accident! You don't fucking get it, do you Tobey. There are no accidents in life, only mistakes."  
  
Tobey stepped back again. "I...I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident, a mistake!"  
  
Marcus pointed to the door. "Get the fuck out of my office, and get the fuck out of town. I'm giving you 24 hours. If I even hear that you're back in the city, I'll shoot you in your head myself."  
  
Tobey nodded, running for the door. He ran outside the building, panting heavily as he leaned against his car. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, jamming it into his mouth as he leaned against the car hood.  
  
The door to the bulding opened, and a figure stepped out into the sunlight. It was Mr. Psychopath, Marcus's right hand man. He walked over to Tobey, sitting next to him on the hood of the car.   
  
"You've fucking done it this time, Tobey. Marcus isn't joking around anymore, he wants you dead." Mr. Pyscopath spoke quietly, looking straight ahead.  
  
Tobey shook his head. "He won't kill me, he made a promise to my dad."  
  
Mr. Psychopatch sighed and nodded. "Yeah, I know he won't kill you...that's why he told me to do it for him."  
  
Mr. Psychopath raised the gun and shot it into the side of Tobey's head. The cigarette fell to the ground, and he landed on top of it. He tried to say he was sorry, but it came out as a gurgle of blood. 


	4. Marcus's Day

Marcus's Day  
  
------------  
  
Donovan lit up the cigarette. "Can I ask why you need to know about Mr. Gall?"  
  
"No, you may not." Marcus slyly replied.  
  
Donovan shrugged his shoulders. "Fair enough. He's staying at the Vice City Victorian, I'm sure you know where it is. He's not using any fake names, he's registered under Harris Gall. He should be easy to catch."  
  
Marcus leaned forward in his desk. "And how do I know you're not setting me up? Leading me to an ambush in the hotel?"  
  
"You'll just have to trust me." Donovan grinned.  
  
"Well...I have a little way of settling this," Marcus said as he pushed the button down on his intercom. "Carrie, come in here for a second."  
  
A few seconds passed, and then Carrie walked into the office. Marcus could see Donovan eyeing the gun in her holster.  
  
"Donovan, this is Carrie, she's marrying my son in a few weeks." Marcus introduced the two.  
  
Donovan extended his hand to Carrie. "Nice to meet you."  
  
Carrie pushed his hand away, Marcus laughed. "My son says Carrie is an expert assasin, and I wanted to do a little test, to see if she is."  
  
Donovan's face turned to shock. "What does that mean!?"  
  
Carrie raised the gun from her holster and held it up to Donovan's head. Marcus walked around the desk, bending down to look Donovan straight in the eyes. "It means that I don't trust if she can kill a man."  
  
Donovan's blood splattered across Marcus's face. Donovan managed to stand up, blood spilling out of his back. He reached into his coat for a gun, dropping it to the ground. He fell to the ground in a heap, his arm outstretched towards the gun. Carrie was shivering, but Marcus knew she could handle it.  
  
He nodded. "Good, now I can trust you."  
  
-----------------------------  
  
He watched as Tobey walked out of the door. He had given him 24 hours to leave the city, but he knew that couldn't happen. As much as it hurt him, Tobey had to be removed, he couldn't let something like this stand. He pushed the button on the intercom. Mr. Psychopath's voice replied on the other end. Marcus called him.  
  
"Yeah?" Mr. Psychopath asked as his head popped in the doorway.  
  
Marcus sighed. "Tobey made a mistake. He needs to be punished. You know what to do."  
  
Mr. Psychopath nodded, closing the door. Marcus sat at the desk, tapping his fingers lightly. A gunshot went off, and his fingers stopped. He sighed.  
  
"Oh...fuck." A voice softly said from the floor.  
  
Marcus stood up and looked over the desk, Carl was waking up on the floor. He raced over to the side and picked Carl up by the arms. He threw him into the chair, handcuffing his feet to the chair and tying his hands behind his head. Carl began to mumble, his eyes slowly opening. He began to whimper, tears slowly running down his cheeks.  
  
"Don't try to move Mr.Gall, you'll just stop the blood flow." Marcus quietly spoke to him.  
  
Carl panted. "Execuse me for butting in, but I'm not Harris Gall. That's just a fake name I'm using while at the hotel!"  
  
"Don't play fucking dumb with me Mr.Gall, I know who you fucking are. I was told someone with your exact description was going to check into that exact room. Unless my source was wrong, which they never are, you are Harris Gall." Marcus screamed back, slamming his fist on the desk.  
  
Carl fidgeted."Look at my ID, it'll say I'm Carl Brannings. Please, just look!"  
  
Marcus stepped around the chair, reaching into the coat of Carl. He felt a piece of paper, and pulled it out. A manilla folder was grasped in his hands. "Hello! What do we have here!"  
  
Marcus ripped open the folder, pulling out a thin photograph from inside. His mouth gasped in shock. It was a photo of him.  
  
Marcus began to pace around the room. "Your source, who is he!?"  
  
Carl cried back. "I-I can't say! He'll kill me!"  
  
Marcus roared back. "He'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you! Tell me who he is!"  
  
Marcus pulled the gun out of his coat, holding it up to Carl's head. "Tell me who he is, and maybe I won't paint the walls with your fucking brain."  
  
"H-His name's Kilroy, I don't know who he is, a man named Big Doug set up the meeting. He told me I had to kill the man who's photograph was in the file," Carl stuttered out.  
  
Marcus laughed. "You know what's funny? You were sent to kill someone, and they end up killing you. That, I find, is the height of irony."  
  
Carl's blood covered the wall in seconds. Marcus jammed the gun back in his coat, heading outside the office.  
  
"Mr. Psychopath, it seems the man we found was not Harris Gall." Marcus spoke as he walked outside. "Donovan was working for someone else, and that someone else wants me dead. The question is: why?"  
  
Mr. Psychopath was wiping the blood off of Tobey's car. He replied back slowly. "They know you're looking for Harris Gall. They want to stop you before you can catch him."  
  
Marcus laughed. "Or they're trying to kill me so they can get Mr. Gall themselves. This guy mentioned two names, Kilroy and Big Doug. I want you to track them down and kill them, I've got to head to my son's house, tell him about Carrie."  
  
Marcus headed towards his car, Mr. Psychopath headed back inside the building. Marcus slid behind the steering wheel, slipping his key into the ignition. A loud clicking began to emit from the dashboard. Marcus sighed, and moved his head closer to listen. The clicking stopped, soon replaced by the sound of a loud explosion. Flames erupted all around Marcus, and a large blast of heat soon engulfed him. 


End file.
